maanantai 15. heinäkuuta 2013

Saga of the robotic mango-man. Part 4: This is the part of the story, that is its first action filled scene.

Previous chapter is here.



Serial nro.-dude had been running at the speed of 30 miles per hour for a few seconds now, on the roofs of the village called Armpit, towards his desired location, due to having seen a prophetic dream. Or maybe it was a dream of the past, and he was too late already. He thought that it would be a most not wished for incident...to anyone who gives a crap. Apparently I do, he thought. The he told himself to shut up. But not irritatedly. Not at all.

He kept on running. Leaping to flat roofs, dodging organisms on those roofs.

He saw the barbershop that had a giant Manga-mouse on top of it, for some reason. He landed down the fire escape of a building (jumping of the roof would`ve damaged various intricate mechanisms). Ran to the barber shop. Saw that everything was fine. Relaxed, and stayed for a lookout.

5 hours passed. It spent them by doing nothing, because that`s what robots do. Even if it is tedious as a macaroni Hell. Then he saw a fellow acting strangely. Walking in front of the barbershop in a nervous manner. Mostly, it`s done by nervous people. Or if you are, for example, asking someone to marry you, awaiting the birth of your first born, you`re about to bungee jump or...commit an armed robbery. 

Serial nro. 456805345 walked towards the middle aged woman who had had half of her ochre hair cut of, whose breasts had been inserted to her belly, for some artistic reason, whose left foot was covered in tattoos of an army of dragons and whose right arms fingers had 24 dragon rings on them. Too noticeable a person to commit crimes, if you ask me.

Our dashing hero talked to the female specimen. 

"I know that you plan to kill a woman in this joint. I advice you not to."

"Hey man, I`m just trying to get to a museum. Not gonna murder anyone. You know where it is?" Said and asked the woman.

"I know what you plan to do, I saw it in a dream."

"Don`t you know that robots do such things not?"

"I saw a prophetic dream."

"No, you did not. What you saw, was a malfunctioning." Said the woman.

"I do not malfunction." Said the robot.

"Okay, sorry...that was uncalled for. Not that you should be upset, though...weird...I thought that robots don`t-"

"I`M NOT-" He calmed down."...feeling anything. Can`t everyone just stop that nonsensical babbling about that particular subject!?"

The woman stood there, ponderously.

"Maybe I did malfunction though. It would explain these strange bursts of..." It thought of how to say emotion, without saying the word. It came to the conclusion, that he should "quote" the word.
"..."emotion"."
He said it while doing the thing you do with hands when you say something, and don`t mean it. Serial nro. did it with 5 of his hands.

"Yeah, maybe. You should get checked out."

"True." Serial nro. walked away.

Woman walked away too. She had to make sure that the robot wouldn`t think of her as a perp anymore. She would have to wait till there would be no robots that could stop her.  

Meanwhile, Serial nro. walked the streets of Armpit.

"It must be a series of malfunctions...Yes. I must have them taken care of. But first, I must stop that woman from murdering the other woman ( I wonder what her name is? ). If she is really going to."

He goed towards the beauty salong/barber shop.

He heard a gunshot,

and was alarmed,

because he was too late.

He ran for rest of the short trip, saying...:

"Nonononononononononowhyohwhyohwhyohwhyohwhy..."

The shop became ever closer, the woman opened the door and ran away, holding her handgun. 

Serial nro. jumped at the criminal. She felt pain, because she was attacked by a being that weighed about 500 kilos. They both toppled down. The heroic assembly of nuts and bolts took a a pair of handcuffs from a blue fake leather Fanny pack. Turned the woman to her back, with three of his arms, held with two and handcuffed with two. Made her stand up. Held her by her hands. The crook was angry.               

"Aren`t you gonna help the woman who was shot?"

"Yes, shooter of the woman in question. You want me to let you get away?"

The woman was hopeful for a second, then rational and unhappy for two of them.

The robot injected her with a precise amount of anesthetic, to make her sleep. Wishing that he would`ve injected too much, instead. That would have him dismantled though. He didn`t hope that. He ran to the barber shop, thinking of this. 

He/it saw the shop. No ambulance yet. Opened the door. Walked to the woman who was laying on the floor. People stood, looking at her. Thinking what to do. An intersexual person who thought of himself as a man, had dialed number 60 (this space time continuums Earths 911), and was talking on the phone. 
    
The robot walked to the Japanese woman with a life threatening amount of fat cells. People stepped aside. Robot kneeled down. And started to work on saving the woman.

"Are you a medical professional?" Asked a woman, the 40 year old barberer man who worked there was crying.  

"I know how to do this, which should be enough."

The robot sucked fat from the damsel in very great distress indeed, with his finger ( because the Japanese woman whose name we still don`t know, would be too bovine to be operated, otherwise). He also kept a hand that works as a heartbeat monitor, on her chest. It was too low, and dropping.

He could see a bald personification of Death sitting in a chair, muttering.

"Here I am...to have a haircut, and then my job gets in the way again..." 

Robot categorized this as weird. 

Heart beat 50.

He continued to suck the very troublesome fat from the woman. 

Heart beat 40.

He saw the bullet wound. The bullet. 

Heart beat 39.

It took medical instruments from the `fore mentioned pack, and started to operate. It also put a plaster to the wound it had sucked fat from.

Heart beat 38. 

It put the metal things to her body, made precise moves and took the bullet out. 

Heart beat 29.

Then he disinfected the wound. Fife persons cheered, six (two of them not carbon based creatures) knew that it wasn`t a time for it yet.   

Heart beat 27.

The ambulance arrived. Serial nro was trying to stop the bleeding, by pressing a borrowed sweater against the wound.

Heart beat 28.

The ambulance dudes walked in. Four of them tried to lift her. Serial nro. helped them in the lifting, with great anxiousness. 

Heart beat 27.

She was taken to the ambulance. The robot tried to walk inside it.

( Meanwhile, a police cars driver had spotted the female transgressor, the villain of this particular story, laying on the ground. Eventually she was taken in to custody, and was sent to jail for 30 years, which she deserved. )

"I`m her helper bot." The robot lied.

The door was shut close, because they didn`t care, obviously.

Serial nro. felt outraged and sad ("Damn bug in the system." He thought.). Watched the car speed off. Started to run in its tail. To its destination. The girth splashed inside him. 

Arrived at the hospitals parking lot. The ambulance goed to the parking lot meant for them. He followed.

When the doors were opened, he sneaked in, and pretended to be one of the medical bots ( he didn`t let the paramedics in the ambulance to see him/it though. The woman was taken to the OR (Operating Room, in case you didn`t know. ) very fast indeed. Still he followed. He saw the entrance to the room made for observing the operating sessions. He goed there. Climbed the stairs.

He stood there. He was alone.

He didn`t dare to think too loudly, or speak.  

He was worried.

He wondered...if she would...pass away...what feeling sorrow would feel like. Again.

Not that horrible, he assumed. He had already lost someone he didn`t know that well before, and he hadn`t felt extremely grief ridden.

The operation continued for 67 minutes more. He was feeling bored and nervous.

Then...

"Well, that`s it. She pulled trough." A doctor said.

Serial number was exhilarated, but decided not to show it. He wanted to rebel against his nature. He walked down the stairs, silently.

Opened the door.

After 11 minutes, the OR-doors opened. The patient was rolled away. The perhaps genderless male robot walked with the nurses and the patient.

"Who are you lil guy?" Asked a nurse with a screwdriver stuck to her ear ( pointy head towards her brain).

"Her helper bot."

"Aha."

After a while, they were in the recovery area. The woman was sedated up to her eyebrows.

After 10 hours (that our automaton adventurer used thusly:
-Two hours of watching videos inside his head.
-One-point-fife hours playing net games inside his head.
-Seven hours, forty-fife minutes of sleeping.
-Forty-fife minutes in total of exploring the hospital.) she was still asleep.

Our hero said to her even if it felt ridiculous to him:

"Hello. Could you wake up?"

No answer.

"Screw it."

He stuck a needle to her arms vein, and squirted some wake-me-up juice inside it.

It took fife minutes.

She opened her eyes.

"Whuhhh...?" She asked.

"Would you believe that I saved your life? If I would still pretend that I have no feelings, I would say that I, at least, don`t. After all, there`s a 66 % chance that I did it because I feel sentimental towards preserving a humans life. Apparently I do." Said the robot.

They were silent.

"Whuh...whuh`s...your nameh...?" Asked the woman, obviously.

"Serial number 456085345. But go ahead and just call me Serial number. I know how difficult it is for you humans to remember longish series of numbers."

"Noth...fhor me..."

"Interesting." Said serial number. "Could you tell me your name in exchange?"

"Ekobo Jaleina..."

End of part 4, you crazy kids.



This story is licensed under creative commons ATTRIBUTION. 
 
Which means, that you can use the story in any way (for example, make it a part of your story continuum), distribute it in any way and if you really want, make money out of it. As long as you:

AttributionYou must give appropriate credit, provide a link to the license, and indicate if changes were made. You may do so in any reasonable manner, but not in any way that suggests the licensor endorses you or your use.

Ei kommentteja:

Lähetä kommentti